Burned Chicken and America's Next Top Model
by devanisrad
Summary: So as it turns out Santana really can't cook.


**Author's note: I know I haven't written anything since like 2013. I'm horrible. I thought I'd try to get back into writing because I really do love it. So here is a REALLY SHORT one shot.**

**I don't own Glee.**

**Burned Chicken and America's Next Top Model**

"I can't believe we're finally here!" Brittany said excitedly as she bounced on her toes.

"I know, B." Santana responded as she fished a key out of her purse and slid it in the door in front of them.

Brittany picked Santana up bridal style and kicked the door open.

"Brittany what the hell are you doing?!" Santana laughed.

"Carrying my new bride over the threshold, duh."

"Oh. Well, in that case..." Santana pulled the blonde's face down to hers and kissed her.

"If that's the reward I get, maybe I should do this everyday."

"You know, B, somehow I don't think that'll be necessary for you to get smooches out of me. You _are_ my wife after all."

Brittany sighed dreamily. "I love it when you say that. Say it again."

"You're my wife." the brunette husked.

"That's it." Brittany carried her wife into their apartment, kicked the door shut behind her, and proceeded straight to the bedroom.

* * *

Brittany flipped onto her back, panting. "Best. Time. Ever."

"Britt, you say that, like, every time. They can't all be the best."

Brittany rolled onto her side to look at Santana and propped her head on her hand. "But every time _is_ the best time. Because I'm with you. And with feelings it's better."

Santana grinned. "Yes it is, B, yes it is." she gave her a quick peck before getting out of bed.

Brittany marveled at the tanned body in front of her before asking, "Where are you going?"

"I am going to go pick up the ingredients to make you a romantic dinner for our first night as a married couple in our new apartment." Santana told her as she pulled her jeans on.

Brittany started pulling her own clothes on as well. "San, you don't have to."

"I want to, wife."

"Well, I'm gonna go to the dance studio for a couple of hours. Try to dance this post-sex adrenaline off."

Santana rolled her eyes and smiled. "You must be the only person that has _more_ energy after an orgasm."

"Love you!" the blonde called as she left the apartment.

"Love you too!" Santana responded.

* * *

Before Brittany even entered the apartment she could tell something was wrong. "San?" she called as she made her way to the kitchen. Something was definitely burning. She opened the oven and pulled out a black chicken. It was smoking. "Oh dear." Brittany muttered to herself as she looked at the pot on the stove. She tried to stir it. Whatever was inside it all stuck to the spoon in one giant glob.

Santana walked out of the bathroom sniffling with tears running down her face.

Brittany walked over to her and held her face. "S, what's wrong?"

Santana gestured to the kitchen. "That! It's all ruined! I just wanted to do something nice for you and I couldn't even cook a simple meal."

Brittany couldn't help herself and let out a giggle.

"It's not funny!"

Brittany coughed and put on a straight face. "Ahem. No, you're right. It's totally not funny."

"Brittany!"

"But you know what, honey? It _is_ okay. I don't need a big fancy meal. I have you forever now. All I need is that and...pizza."

Santana laughed despite herself. "Pizza does sound pretty good."

"See? It'll be okay. We'll order a pizza and watch some TV. I'll even let you pick what we watch."

"Oh, now I _know_ you must really love me if you're letting me pick the show."

Brittany nodded. "It's true, I do."

"There is _one_ part of dinner that didn't get ruined." Santana told Brittany.

"What's that?"

Santana smiled mischievously. "The wine."

"Well that's the most important part!" Brittany all but yelled.

* * *

Forty five minutes later the wives were on their fourth glass of wine, giggling madly while trying to feed each other.

"Okay, B, that's the the third pepperoni you've missed throwing in my mouth and hit me in the face with. I'm done." Santana said, taking a rather large sip of wine.

"No, just one more try!" the blonde pleaded, giving the brunette puppy dog eyes.

"Aw that's cheating," Santana threw her hands up in resignation, "Fine."

Brittany clapped and tossed the pepperoni in the air.

Santana leaned a little too fair to the left and fell right off the couch.

"Oh my God! San, are you okay?!" Brittany asked, leaning over the couch.

Santana was silent and looked confused. Suddenly and very loudly she burst out laughing.

Brittany rolled off the couch and onto Santana and silenced the brunette's laughter with a kiss.

* * *

After an hour, Brittany and Santana were back on the couch and flipping on an America's Next Top Model marathon.

The two had been watching the show together since they were little. Practicing their runway walks, dressing up and having photo shoots.

"Just like old times." Santana said as she leaned her head on her wife's shoulder.

Brittany put her arm around Santana and kissed her temple. "Mhm."

Santana closed her eyes and sighed contently.

"Maybe you should mess up dinner more often." Brittany said with a smile.


End file.
